Wrath of the Gods (Magic Blessed Academy 3)

He chuckled at my dry tone, then waved a hand to banish the spell he’d put on the door to muffle our noises. As we stepped out into the quiet, darkened hallway, he let the door fall shut behind us with a thud.

But before we could turn toward the stairs that would take us up to the dorms, another low thud caught my ear.

What the hell? Maybe I was wrong about no one else training at this hour.

I glanced over at Lachlan to see if he’d heard it too, and he nodded, his brows pulling together.

Jerking my head in the direction of the noise, I padded down the corridor toward it, Lachlan right beside me. When we turned a corner into the hallway that lead to the front of the school, I stopped in my tracks, my heart lurching in my chest.

“Wesley?”

At the sound of my voice, the lanky man looked up. He had one arm braced on the wall, and his entire body looked like it was sagging, as if gravity was too much for it to withstand anymore.

“Aria.” He straightened a little, then began limping down the hall toward me and Lach.

With a grunt, the burly Irishman stepped in front of me. “Oh no, ye fuc

kin’ don’t.”

Wesley blinked, and as I peered around the giant, muscled barrier between us, I saw him shake his head. “It’s… it’s not like that, Lachlan. I—I get it now. I understand.”

“What do you understand?”

My hands clenched into fists, my entire body ready for a fight as I stepped around Lach. I appreciated him wanting to look out for me, and I could relate to his obvious desire to kick Wesley’s ass. But as I looked closer at my classmate, I realized Lach and I were both too late.

Someone else had gotten to Wesley first.

And they’d done a real number on him.

One eye was almost completely swelled shut. The leg he was limping on had a deep gash in it, visible through the tear in his pants. Other bruises and scrapes marred every visible part of his body, and his clothing was dirty and tattered.

“What the fuck happened to you?” I breathed, pity and horror coloring my voice.

I hated Wesley, I wouldn’t deny that—but seeing anyone like this made my stomach twist.

“You were right.” Wesley shook his head, grimacing as if the movement hurt. “The gods… they’re not on our side. They don’t want to help us.”

“Took ye fuckin’ long enough to realize that shite,” Lachlan grumbled, but I ignored him, narrowing my eyes at the man in front of me.

“They did this to you?”

Wesley nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes. They did worse to the others. They punished all of us just for… just for existing.”

Lach was right. Wesley’s moment of seeing the light was too little, too late as far as I was concerned. Why couldn’t he have realized this shit back before he had offered himself up as a lackey to the gods? Why couldn’t he have stood with his own people all along?

“Wait a minute.” I took a step forward, my heart lurching. “How did you get in here? There’s a shield around the school.”

“I know.” He nodded, licking his lips. “I felt it. But I just… walked right through.”

What? How was that possible?

Unless Ryker’s shielding spell had somehow been designed to sense students from the academy, and would admit anyone who belonged here. Wesley said the shield was still in place, that he’d felt it, but still…

Lach and I shared a look, and my stomach tightened into a hard knot.

“We need to go check on the shield,” I said quickly. Then I turned back to Wesley. “I’m gonna have to put you in the holding area where we’re keeping Dean Frost and the others. I’ll get you a healing potion, but we can’t let you just wander around free. Once this is done, we’ll decide what to do with you all.”

Something flickered in Wesley’s eyes, and he looked down, seeming almost ashamed. “Of course. I understand. It’s better than I deserve.”